


Earth, water and everything around us

by dri_br



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post_Episode 3x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:07:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dri_br/pseuds/dri_br
Summary: These days awareness is felt on the sensitive pads of his twitching fingers.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	Earth, water and everything around us

**Author's Note:**

> Just reposting something very short, un-betaed, and that I still hope will make sense, even with English not being my native language.

These days awareness is felt on the sensitive pads of Eddie’s twitching fingers. Something so simple, basic and instinctual, but that night, while underwater, he had simply felt powerless and could not accomplish.

*****

Eddie had been weightless, the cold seeping into his bones as he pushed his way through a blurred vision to God knows where, his heart thrumming in tune with the fear freezing his brain in increments, robbing him of oxygen, numbing his senses.

Almost nothing was left to keep him afloat, but the cadence of the shushing water whispering memories in the voices of his son, of the man he loves, of his family, and of his late wife, who ironically was the one to give Eddie the final kick in the ass to remind him that yes, he had something, everything, worth fighting his way back to.

With the fluorescent stick lightening his path to the surface in green, Eddie kicked and padded until he breathed in the frigid, wet night air, negotiating what he still had of lucidity with the right to be exhausted and the obligation to keep moving, to reach the red lights signaling his way to the others, to Buck, and the end of this hellish night.

En route of being carried to what he believed to be an ambulance, Eddie had the distant memory of Hen telling him something about taking him home, of smiling at Buck and squeezing his hand, and the frustration at the many layers of different materials lining the inside of his working gloves.

They had helped Eddie survive, but at that moment they were preventing his flesh from touching Buck’s, the final evidence necessary to make him believe that yes, he was indeed alive.

After being trapped with the uncertainty of living or dying, he had longed for that special. grounding feeling of Buck’s skin wrapped around his, but Eddie passed out before his wish was granted.

And there lays the problem: inside the water or while crawling and wrestling his way back to the land of the living, in his frazzled mental state everything had been shapeless and lacking the tactual sense Eddie has desperately tried to get reacquainted with once Buck drove him back home in the morning, after a night spent in the hospital, just a precaution that gave Eddie pause to think.

He’s not back there. It’s over. He survived and he’s not back there.

*****

Bobby called to give Eddie the rest of the week off and assigned Buck to babysit duty on his first day back home and to see to his needs, with the expressed order to call him if Eddie needed anything or more time.

Eddie remembers Buck later joining him in the shower and lathering his sore body with gentle, slippery hands massaging every bruise, working on and relaxing every knot in Eddie’s stiff muscles, the warm, sudsy water swirling down the drain at their bare feet.

Eddie had been at peace, head falling on Buck’s shoulder as his boyfriend rinsed his hair before turning off the shower and wrapping a large towel around his waist, half helping and half-carrying Eddie back to the bedroom, into his pajamas, and tucking him into bed.

Eddie had fallen asleep circling the little bumps on the callused skin on the palms of Buck’s hand wrapped around his.

Since then every waking hour has been about fluttering movements of fingertips to stretch the rumpled, grainy fabric of duvets and the sheets in his bed, to hold onto the handfuls of woolen sweater Eddie gets every time he draws Christopher into his embrace, or to refamiliarize himself with the texture of Buck’s skin.

*****

The day of the Show and Tell, Buck charges Carla with three very important missions: drive Eddie and Chris to school, record the whole presentation for Buck to watch later, and then drive Eddie back home and keep him company until Buck is back from his shift with Chris in tow.

Eddie knows better than to try and foolish Carla, so after a quick stop for groceries, he promises her she can go, that he will just sit still or catch up with some sleep because even after three days, Eddie’s still tired beyond his years.

So here he is, back into his empty house with nothing to do but wait until Buck is back home with Chris.

Eddie walks around letting his hands roam over every surface, of every corner and crane, anything that won’t remind him of the mud sticking to his face, to his clothes; won't remind him of the water that wouldn't soothe or heal.

What is real is the new picture on the fireplace mantel taken at the fire station Christmas party last year. Eddie and Buck are sitting on the steps outside with Christopher standing between the two of them, holding springs of mistletoe above each of their heads. Mistletoe worked its magic and from there the rest is history.

Eddie takes the picture with him outside to the back yard, lies down on the porch swing, and waits for his boys to come back home.

*****

“Hey, dad! Where are you? Buck and I are home.”

Had Eddie been back there, he would have startled awake, as if bullets were popping and flying everywhere.

“Out here, kiddo.” Eddie sets the picture frame on the low table before him and waits.

“He’s in the backyard, Buck.”

“Heard him, buddy. Why don’t you go see if he’s in trouble while I start sorting things for dinner?”

“And a snack?”

“Thought you already had a snack.”

“Dad says ice cream is not a snack.”

“I’ll remember that next time a certain someone asks me for ice cream.”

But Eddie is not, and the sound of his son giggling and crutching his way to Eddie while he keeps chatting with Buck puts a smile on his face, even if his eyes are still closed.

Because Eddie is not there anymore. He survived and did something he had failed to do since coming back from Afghanistan:

Eddie broke free. At least for now, he broke free.

“Hi, dad.”

“Hey, m’hijo,” Eddie says, forgetting sore ribs to pull his son to him, have Chris fit along his body, and let the strawberry smell of his son’s hair and his smile ground Eddie to this life. "How was your day?”

Chris is a chatterbox puffing little breaths of hot hair against Eddie’s chin and patting his little hands on Eddie’s chest. He fits his arm around Chris’s shoulder, fingers digging the soft wool of his son’s cardigan, and Eddie loves him so much he aches from inside, a pain so intense and pure, Eddie can live ten different lifetimes and the feeling will still be there, burning and alive.

“Buck will help me with my science project because I have to plant a bean seed, watch it grow, and take notes."

“Just Buck? I’m no good anymore?”

“You kill plants, dad.”

“And to think that this morning I was a hero.”

“Still a hero, boyfriend, but you _do_ kill plants.”

Eddie smiles up at his boyfriend and grunts as he lifts his upper body. Buck takes the hint and rearranges the pillow Eddie had been resting on in his lap and helps Eddie lower back his head and make himself comfortable against him.

He drops a kiss on Eddie’s lips and Chris shows all his indignation in the way he wrinkles his nose and gags at the two of them until Buck uses one of his hands to tickle and reduce Eddie’s son into a shrieking puddle crying for his dad’s help.

Eddie feels at home in a universe where all he needs to keep himself grounded is within the grasp of his bare hands.

And he takes his chance and does not let go.

**Author's Note:**

> After the last episode, all I could think about - besides Buck's despair - was the way Buck and Eddie were gripping each other's hand at the end of the episode, and how those gloves were keeping Eddie from something he must have craved after being lost underwater for such a long time: the warmth of human touch.  
> Thanks for taking the time to read my little story. Take care and stay home.


End file.
